


Now Is The Time For Love

by Space_Cadet_Blues



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Love, M/M, Not Entirely Explicit, Romance, Sex, the four seasons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 19:10:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18198188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Cadet_Blues/pseuds/Space_Cadet_Blues
Summary: Winter searches for his love, Spring.





	Now Is The Time For Love

He wanders through the field alone, frost crystallising under every heavy footfall. Ice particles dancing into the air behind the drape of his thick, white fur cloak. The colour of which, matches his long hair, pulled back and tied, and his beard, short and shabbier than when he first emerged. His eyes two fierce blue shards in a sea of white. It's here somewhere. Which means... He is also here.

The silver of his embroidered tunic glitters in the morning light. His finery an ancient comfort. His movements are slow and purposeful. His heart beats hard, circulating old blood through a body that has seen the beginnings and ends of wars. Seen man and creature fall to his might but also those who ward him off with cunning and where evolution has dealt a fair hand. He isn't malicious in his intent. He simply is. He simply always has been. Though his form varies century to century.

He stops and stoops, large hand searching in the tall grass. There. The fresh sprout of a flower. Its bulb having lay dormant in the soil, waiting for warmth. Waiting for...

The air around him is suddenly fresher without the sharp sting of cold. Frost melts and Winter looks up, starting at brown boots, then up further still past the moss green and gold embroidery and into the smiling face of Spring. His cloak flutters about him momentarily as though jostled by invisible hands.

"Greetings Henry."

Spring circles him as he stands, the act friendly, like an animal looking to play. Winter smiles. It's been a while since they've had the fortune to meet.

The air is thick with the scent of flowers, sickly sweet and cloying. Winter knows this is because Spring is happy.

Spring laughs joyfully, his warm eyes crinkling at the corners. He holds up his hand and Winter holds up his own, gently they touch, palm to palm.

"Connor."

Winter thinks it’s a silly name but he accepts it because it's something Spring chose for himself. Though, he can't find too much fault in it. Spring did gift him with a name too, 'Henry' and he holds it dearly as his own.

"I was hoping to find you!" Spring chirps. His palm slides down and his fingertips follow the ravines of Winter’s lifelines.

"Well you did leave me a trail to follow."

"And follow it you did! I'm glad."

His smile alone almost cracks the ice around Winter’s ancient heart.

That will have to be thawed eventually if Spring is to go about his business.

Spring leans in close, unafraid of Winter's lack of warmth. He has plenty of his own after all.

"I only left you the prettiest of flowers."

Spring plucks a Forget-Me-Not out of thin air and tucks it into Winter's hair just above his ear.

Winter smiles, "You spoil me so."

Spring is vibrant, bold and kind, pressing himself against Winter's broad chest as his arms loop around his neck. Winter’s arms circle his hips immediately.

"I missed you dearly, Henry. Summer is always a pain when you're not around to cool his temper.

Ah yes. Summer. Or. 'Gavin' as Connor has now dubbed him. A hot head at the best of times.

"Autumn is perfectly capable of dampening his mood."

Spring pouts and such a look should not affect Winter as it does.

The ice thaws a little more around them.

"He favours him. You know he does," Spring whines.

Winter curls his fingers under Spring's chin and brushes his thumb at the corner of Spring's mouth. 

"Just as you favour me. And I you. No more frowning."

And just like that, spring smiles.

"Alright... You're right. Niles will keep him in check."

Winter laughs. "What's with these names? Where did you get them?"

"I was bringing flowers to bloom outside of a town. There were children playing nearby, there was a little stoic one." Connor pokes the tip of Winter's nose gently. "Henry. He reminded me of you. There were two brothers. Niles, and Connor." Spring's face then darkens slightly. "There was a little brat throwing rocks at them."

Winter laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, jostling Spring a little.

"Gavin?"

Spring nods. And then shrugs.

"It stuck out to me. I don't know why but it occurred to me that we have worked around humans for centuries. Even take the form of them. But we don't have human names."

"Your fascination with them astounds me."

Spring shifts in the circle of his arms.

"They're not all bad."

"Mm."

Spring looks thoughtful for a moment before his eyes brighten once more. "The ugliness and brutality of the world aside. Are we to start our ritual?" Spring asks, the scent of flowers thickening.

Winter's hold on him tightens and Spring laughs, the sound of it tinkling across the field.

"Where would you like to conduct it my love?" Winter asks, low in his ear.

Spring trembles and answers immediately.

"Here."

"No shelter?"

"Are you shy Henry? It's not as though mortals can witness us join."

Winter knows that Spring knows that isn't the reason he pointed it out.

Spring likes to pretend sometimes, that they aren't destined to endlessly bathe the planet in snow, sunshine, rain and greenery.

He'll continue to let him pretend. They have forever after all. What harm could it do?

Spring steps back, jovial as he unfastens his cloak and lays it out, the frost on the grass around and under it melting and drying up instantaneously.

"I know how you love being open to the elements. And I, love being open to you."

Spring winks and Winter puts a hand over his own heart, as though struck.

Winter shucks his own cloak and lays it out, overlapping Spring's. A makeshift nest atop soft grass.

Spring steps out of his boots and onto the material, curling his toes into the fabric. He looks expectantly at Winter and holds out his hand.

Winter mirrors him, taking off his own boots,  taking Spring's hand and stepping onto his own cloak.

They lock eyes and turn with their palms pressed together, switching to stand on each others garments.

Spring's hands come to rest on his chest before his busy fingers make short work of buttons, clasps and buckles.

Winter lets Spring eagerly disrobe him, enjoying Spring's warm gaze prickling over his flesh.

Spring circles him again, this time touching, his fingertips gentle and curious as they graze his chest, his arms, his back. Winter feels the heat of him.

Nearby more ice starts to melt.

Spring moves to stand in front of him and cups his cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Every time, I love you more and more. And every day you're away from me it hurts."

"Life isn't meant to be painless my love."

There are tears in Spring’s eyes.

The grass grows a little taller. The creak of the blades reaching up toward the watery sunlight only audible to them.

"It isn't fair."

Winter nuzzles into his hands before taking them in his own. Thumbs brushing comfortingly over knuckles.

"It's not meant to be fair either. But we're here now. Together."

Spring smiles, tears in his lashes refracting silver light so they look like tiny jewels.

"Yes. That's all that matters."

Winter threads a hand into the hair at the back of his head and brings him in gently for a kiss. He's warm, so warm. Every heartbeat Winter feels under his palm as his free hand comes to rest on Spring's chest, echoes that of a new life created. He's breathtakingly beautiful.

Winter undresses him quick and careful, being sure to fold each garment and lay them next to his own.

Spring's graceful hands reach behind Winter’s head and pull his hair free. It tumbles in silver waves past his chin and Spring smiles brightly. For some reason he loves Winter's hair, especially when it's let loose from its tie.

He runs his hands through it and Winter chuckles, his cold hands coming to rest on Spring's hips.

"What?" Spring pouts, but his eyes are glinting mischievously.

"Nothing," Winter says, smiling.

"Henry. Are you making fun of me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it love."

Spring pushes their bodies flush together.

"You had better not. I'll have baby deers nibble your fine clothes to pieces," he threatens, poking out his tongue.

Winter gently squeezes him looking at him in mock outrage.

Spring laughs and pulls him into another kiss. This one with more fire behind it.

Slowly Winter lowers him to their makeshift bed, the contrast of their temperature differences making skin on skin contact deliciously addictive.

Spring’s hands rake fire over his back. His legs rubbing against Winter's as he squirms beneath him. He moans into Winter's mouth, wriggling to settle into position.

Winter's hand finds his length between them and strokes him in long hard pulls until he is whimpering softly. Hands gripping the soft material beneath him.

"I'm ready," he says quietly. Tears catching the sunlight. Winter swipes them away as they fall.

Spring is usually emotional when it comes to this. He's so full of emotions most of the time that he never knows quite what to do with them.

Winter is always patient. Always understanding.

There's no reason to doubt him. They aren't human after all. Winter would pursue foreplay but Spring always like to be taken straight away. They can linger and touch all they want later.

He gives Spring a few more firm strokes and a whiskery kiss before he reaches to take himself in hand. Spring spreads his legs a little more and holds Winter close. Smiling softly.

When he breaches him Winter is almost overwhelmed by the heat of his body. It's a feeling that hits him full force every time. Spring shivers, crying out softly.

Several small birds take flight from nearby trees. Flowers bloom slowly at the edge of the field.

The first few thrusts are slow and languid. Spring's hands trail down his back continuing until they find his rear, pushing insistently. Urging him deeper.

Winter kisses his pleasure slackened mouth and whispers praise in a language long forgotten from this world.

The wind picks up, leaves beginning to bud on the naked branches of trees.

Spring is greedy with pleasure, moaning and urging Winter to go deeper, harder, faster. Greedy hands grabbing at him.

Winter prolongs it, not giving in to all of his demands right away. That would bring things to an end rather quickly.

Eventually Spring grows restless, desperately urgent to have his release. He pushes Winter, up, up and back. Keeping Winter inside him all the while.

While on his back Winter can admire him a little more as he works himself hard, undulating like a river about to burst it's banks.

He's practically glowing in the sunlight. Growing brighter the higher the sun rises.  
Beautiful. Just beautiful.

Winter caresses his thighs, his cock, his belly, his chest. He could watch him rise and fall in his lap all day.

They may even have time for it.

The frost melts back, confined to the shadows of spidery waking trees.

Winter's body warms.

Spring's fingers rake down his chest.

Ivy creeps higher and digs deeper into brickwork, wraps itself around the trunks of trees.

His voice carries on the chilly air.  
Animals call to each other in the nearby thicket.

Spring looks at him, desperate for release. Desperate for the closeness this act brings them.

Winter pulls him down against his chest and holds him tight, thrusting hard into him.

Spring wails and Winter whispers praise against his lips. His hips work hard and fast and Spring is barely coherent. He clings and sobs and by the time he finishes with a broken "Henry," he's a shivering mess.

Winter's climax is pulled out of him harshly. His body giving over to Spring's whims.

Spring kisses him softly.

"Henry. I love you Henry," he whispers.

They lay in the early morning sunlight. The first signs of the changes Spring brings all around them.

Winter listens to the birds gathering twigs. The rabbits scurrying through the undergrowth looking for a mate.

He'll have to leave soon. Back to waiting until he can hold Spring in his arms again. But for now he enjoys the time they have left together.

"I love you too, Connor."

 


End file.
